


Children of R'lyeh, Act EX

by Vosh



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - Fandom, Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, Furry (Fandom), cyberpunk - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25225732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vosh/pseuds/Vosh
Summary: 'Act EX' stands for 'Act: Extra'. This work is a collection of post- and pre- story content, either to add to or expand on the world. This collection of works currently contains content written by myself, and will eventually have content written by others who have contributed to helping build on the many elements that make up the world of Children of R'lyeh.
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**[Pumpkin Eyes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r8AySapL5zQ) **

**[Memories of Nothing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8bVLOpuvNFI) **

**Children of R'lyeh**

_My name, as most should know by now, and if not then they're obviously the kind that are afraid to even look in my general direction when I'm just taking a stroll-...sidetracked, right. My name is Vosh Phantasm, first born of Vythica 'The Vorpal' Phantasm and Alixandr, the First Harbinger. And as dangerous as it sounds to be the first born daughter of a pair that inevitably decided the direction this newfound world would turn, you'd probably be surprised that it's not. Not anymore, anyways. I should probably go back to the beginning of it all._

_My father's past is probably the most rough and cursed story I'd ever heard, or read thanks to Oxye and his sister, Molly. A lot of the information about his origins is altered to try and convince a lot of people that he was not directly involved in all of this. But...unfortunately he was. He was also the source of the conflict I found myself involved in from before I could even remember. He was an intelligent male that found himself locked into something I couldn't imagine even walking away from with the slightest amount of sanity._

_He was the cursed child of an enemy that eventually turned to the beginnings of what is said to be my people's salvation and liberation. Or at least one half of it, anyways. Despite all of the nightmares he fought, both mentally and physically... he still somehow remained himself. He always speaks of our supposed 'gods' and their unpredictable workings, but I still refuse to believe it was nothing more than luck, or a plan by our old leaders. Speaking of which, that's probably what ended up being the beginnings of our downfall. But that's delving way farther into the past than it's worth talking about. I'm sure anyone could learn about all of the ancient origins stuff from someone that's still around from those days._

_But...I guess where I was going with all of that was that I'm apparently the daughter of a reincarnation, destined to some kind of prophetical future. I feel as though more happened when he was apparently on this side of the world that he isn't telling me or anyone else about, but sitting through his lectures usually tends to end up leading him to begin getting lost in his own head after awhile. But it wasn't only his past that led to where we are as a city now. What he started was only one part, and the other part...well, that would be my mom's responsibility._

_She told me that her and my dad met when they were young and growing up in the Brood Tower back in R'lyeh. She has a tendency to warp stories to fit her regime some times, so I'm going to say that she forced their meeting. My dad isn't the kind of person to outwardly express himself on his own, so I don't doubt she coaxed him into talking to her. Anywho, apparently this led to innocent flirting as they went about their last turns in the tower, which honestly I can't imagine because they're both so...stale? I can't tell if they're happy, sad, or serious most of the time. I usually just assume serious, especially after all of what happened._

_Things apparently got shady when my mom stopped seeing my dad roam the tower like normal. She said he started to look sickly, more anorexic than normal, and as if some presence hovered over him that she could not decipher. And her investigating was cut short because those old bastards that apparently ran the old city finally realized she did not feel an emotion central to how we develop...and that was fear. So they sent her, alongside a reject of their council, to The Deep where she came across her title, her personal weapon set, and my own personal blade that was given to me as a child. But get this, The Deep isn't a place, it's...more than that. But it doesn't exist any more. After my mom finished her trials there and began to learn the true meaning of what it meant to 'fear' something, its doors closed on their own, and have not been able to be opened to this day. Nothing tries to escape it, and it won't let anyone in. Maybe the trial offer finally expired?_

_Quite a few years later, and I mean a lot of quite a few years later...we were born, my twin brother and I, and we were considered illegal children of R'lyeh, the first Ashborn. Of course my parents were still too naive to think themselves responsible enough to not get caught raising a set of Alpha-Scholar Ashborn children, probably the most cursed or blessed bloodline depending on someone's outlook on the subject...so they had us raised within the Brood Tower like any other children, but under the specific eye of someone we came to know as a mother of sorts: Qi'ara._

_We were only raised there until what could be considered the early stages of adolescence, but according to Ventus I was...a handful, if not two handfuls. I got into fights he had to step in to defend me from because of my size, I tried sabotaging other kids' plans that he took the lashings for, and I even played hooky from most everything...which he did not hesitate to defend me about when it came to verbal lessons. There's a reason he hides his scars under bandages, and it's not for his sake. I guess he doesn't want me to feel guilty about him doing what he did out of his own will, but I can't help but feel that way anyways thinking back on it. He's likely the only reason I managed to find my way back and continue living._

_Which brings me to the ten plus year coma I fell into. According to my mom when I first woke up, this was the turning point for her. Those years we spent in the Brood Tower were used by her to plan the massive exodus out of R'lyeh and to this world, and I had no idea as I continuously fought for my life in a never ending, futuristic world that somehow came to be the exact one I live in now. I was only what would be assumed to be between the age of ten and twelve, but in my head I was already grown and living. It was there that everything I'd thought was the truth became the truth. I met and befriended people that I later rediscovered to actually exist in the actual world. And to be quite honest? They're all right in justifying my immaturity, because I never got to mature outside of my physical appearance. But apparently that's what makes me so unique...fuck._

_What my mother hadn't told me was that my own blade that she named Animus was tucked beside me at all times during those years in hopes that it would help me conquer that Eldritch Nightmare. Oddly enough, it wasn't until my father demanded the weapon be repurposed into something functional that I began to see the discrepancies in my nightmare and broke free without the knife's assistance. I probably only spent two or three years more with my parents before I ran away and tried to live on my own. But my family couldn't outrun what they'd started all those years ago, and soon I found myself dragged back into what felt like a rerun episode of my coma. And while the events that unfolded became so monumental that the rest of the world began to watch again, they ended just as fast, like we had planned for this, waiting for something or someone to awaken...and that something or someone was me._

_I'd been given the title of 'The Unawakened' when I first fell into what my dad now tries justifying as prophetical, planned. To be honest, I want to say I feel like a tool, an instrument in their symphony of redemption, but it was much more than that. My mom saw visions of me when she was forced to traverse The Deep. My dad was spoken to by the gods about me. Neither of them were old or wise enough then to realize what they'd all meant, but it all centralized on one artifact: my blade._

_My knife was not just a harmless weapon, nor was it just an ancient tool. It was the temporary home for the true soul of The Deep. While no name was given to my mom when she found it, she instead gave it a name: Nexus, the forbidden daughter of our now extinct god...or so we hope. Nexus never had a physical form. Instead she was simply the womb that we called The Deep. My mom and Reaper always reference it as our true origin home, and R'lyeh was simply the city we were released into once we became mature enough. And now...now this entire world on the other side of R'lyeh is our city._

_I used to think that my mom had given me some broken heirloom, but after everything I've gone through up to this point...I'm starting to find myself believing in what everyone basically calls nonsense. Our people now have an entire world to explore and meet other societies that probably thought of us as some sort of plague, and I really think that opportunity is going to come really soon. The endless winter that surrounded New R'lyeh has started to die off and the world's natural resources have begun to slowly restore themselves. And while I want to believe that my family's curse has been lifted for good...well, I guess we'll have to wait and see where this goes, who we'll meet, and how it all plays out._

_My name is Vosh Phantasm, and I'm finally awake._

[As the video log begins to end, a tinge of golden-orange blends itself into the outlines of the girl's irises. She gives a wink and a mocking salute.]

_I'll see you at some point. Trust me._


	2. CFS Origins: True Neutrality

[Still Healing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QtCbgadN3Rc&ab_channel=mau5trap)

_**True Neutrality** _

In an age where everyone seems to have an ulterior motive, and has access to information that could tip the scales in any which direction, how does a specific location and faction remain truly neutral? In this city of New R'lyeh, once known as Novus City, there are and have always been additional powers and influences outside of the more prominent ones. The Council, mirrored after an ancient, otherworldly's governing body, seems to dictate much of the city's day to day activities. But it wasn't always the central power. That wasn't implemented until the event most know as 'The Exodus'. Whether someone remembers that or not is up to how they handled it.

No, long before the arrival of the Ngirrth'luin and their influence, in a still young, growing, and developing network city, much of the Lower Levels were already being contested as territory for re-surging groups most from the previous era were aware of: syndicates, mafias, gangs, crews, and the list goes on. Despite humanity fading away, those left still carried on their habits...and their traditions. So again, how does a specific location remain neutral in a city bound to wound itself as it grew? The answer, with how things were taking shape, was information.

Her arrival to Novus City in its early ages was almost a mistake, her being on the run from whatever it was that she claimed was chasing her. She supposedly came from _[REDACTED]_ , but who's to say she was telling the truth? A bit strange for someone like herself to be known as a _[REDACTED]_. But that information was not what would eventually lead her to do what she had. Despite the now plentiful and booming business of bodily augmentation in the current age, it's important to note that it was her business here in Novus City that gave rise to it.

According to this girl, this woman, the supposed 'first from another realm'...she could cure the aging of organs, the failure of important body parts, and most importantly improve the individual in ways they could not imagine until she laid hands on them. All she asked for in exchange for this...was information. And while many at the time did not think it more than a 'free' chance at the first stages of augmentation, some began to see a pattern. You see, information in a city that bases itself on digital networking more than monetary exchange was more valuable than even the rarest metals and materials. Information gave you leads on activity where others might not see it. Information gave you influence, because without it, who could you fool?

None understood this more than two of this girl's first and most repeated contacts. Not much is known about them aside from some very vague descriptions, namely that one is male and the other female. Their repeated business with the girl was always done in secret and through the same process: information was exchanged, augmentation was performed if they so sought it, they woke up with little memory of the event. But as time went on, this process changed. They began to remember the process, learning her name as well as others'. These 'other known' people would soon become their network, a network that even still they have no way of knowing is actually there.

It took time, it took money, and it took influence, but once the location now known as 'The Sanctum' was established, powers immediately took to claim it for their own. Before the doors to this place of neutrality, this safe haven, were even opened to the public, it was broken into by multiple contacts looking to offer a deal. These faces all found themselves facing their rival parties, weapons armed and aimed at the ready to see who'd slip first in this rather dimly lit location. Their firearms hummed, their blades tapped against the walls and scaffolding, waiting...then it happened.

Just as it seemed as thought a rookie would slip here in this place, darkness engulfed them all, and before each and every one of them even had the chance to react, a unified sound of nothing louder than an audible whisper passed through the building. When the lights finally and slowly illuminated the warehouse sized location, only a single member of each conflicting faction remained. More specifically the youngest, the most fearful, and the most gullible. Some screamed ghost as they witnessed the bodies of their supposed allies deceased on the ground, their lives ended swiftly and efficiently by what seemed to be a rather new type of round.

But their investigations were cut short as each of them were soon detained by enigmatic guardians draped in dark clad, ragged clothing, faces hidden behind hoods and masks. Each of them were lined up shoulder to shoulder, disarmed in the process. Before them slowly approached the male and female mentioned, and behind them another feminine figure clad in similar fashion to the ones behind them. The girl, the third figure, spoke as she gently pressed herself between the two to meet the detainees, removing her hood to reveal _[REDACTED]_ , “Your names. Your reasons. Your goals.” Her voice was soft, but her words stung cold.

At first, they didn't quite understand, prompting the girl to speak once more, “Your names. Your reasons. Your goals.” What did it mean? What she seemed to be asking for was unbelievably vague, but it seemed that her patience had already run thin. She slowly turned away, almost giving a huff as she placed her hood back over her head, “Vanity, Royal...you know the conditions of this place. Obtain what you can, by whatever means. The Network will return them with a message. Your end of the deal is complete. This Sanctum is yours to run how you see fit. I won't be far away, as always.”

* * *

So again, how does a specific location and faction manage to maintain what can only be described as 'true neutrality'? Information and influence. A network of agents. An enigmatic mind with two loyal patrons. From that point on began a shift in how tertiary powers maintained their territories, their business, their livelihood. 'The Sanctum' became a grounds for not only neutral negotiations between these parties, but a place of safety from the city itself. Any and all who sought to escape the reality of their lives, their troubles, their mistakes...'The Sanctum' could become their temporary home or safe zone. But always remember, there is no true peace in this place of neutrality without paying the right price. So again...how do we remain truly neutral? Your word is our price.


	3. Like a Fine Wine

[Snowcone](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=amBBO4PqJKo&ab_channel=mau5trap)

It was a cold night, and a wet one at that. The city's weather simulation had shifted to stormy winter showers, and none felt it more than the Ngirrth'luin residents of New R'lyeh. Despite this, many continued about their daily routines, conducting their usual business, obtaining their usual pleasures along with everyone else. Many of the elders found themselves locking themselves away for the time being, opting to stay warm in their homes, but also using that time to begin shifting their décor to more festive themes. While the Ngirrth'luin themselves did not celebrate many of the holidays associated with this time of year like the others prior to the Exodus, they began to quickly and comfortably adopt them. Cheerful spirits always helped lift the soul, and helped them forget their hardships.

Years came and went as often as the days themselves, and none were feeling it as much as a particular pair of twin siblings as they found themselves on a voluntary patrol of the Lower Levels, outside of the watch of Enforcement and even their own prideful mother. Unlike other times, they were not armed, nor were they dressed to take on any kind of encounter should one surface. No, this particular patrol was for their own sake. Though they were still young in comparison to their parents, and even moreso to those that are from generations even before, they couldn't help but fight the feeling of age. They didn't feel tired as they aimlessly walked the streets in more casual wear, they didn't feel fatigued, nor did they feel upset. Aging was just a part of life, that much they understood, but how they aged still confused them. Some would call it eternal youth, but others might see it as a cursed imprisonment to life.

As the twins found themselves coming to a pause in a lounge somewhere in Level 11, one high above the streets with a private overlook of the entire city below, they found themselves thinking, but not before requesting the overlook be given privacy for the both of them. There were seats designed for the more wealthy, being this was a luxurious establishment, and an open bar. No staff was there to intrude or dictate what they did. Vosh then found herself leaned onto the railing of the overlook, taking in the sight of their now permanent home. The rain fell just outside of arm's reach, gently drizzling between sudden downpours that lasted no more than about thirty seconds, “I remember the storms being just like this back in R'lyeh. You think the city is trying to tell us something?” questioned the shorter, female twin.

“I doubt it. You gotta remember that there _are_ still Ngirrth'luin on the new City Council. It's only fair, considering that our people are part of this city now for the foreseeable future. What makes you ask that?” asked the younger, yet taller twin, Ventus. He leaned back against the railing his sister was leaned forward against.

“I'm...not sure, actually. Maybe it's just because things feel like they're moving along so smoothly that I feel like something or someone is going to try and disrupt it all. It's how it's been even since we were pups. Couldn't go a day without trouble, remember?” Vosh laughed a bit at that thought. It was true, afterall.

“Yeah, yeah, I remember. And it was always me having to bail you out from the first days of us just learning how to stand on our own two feet. For some reason you thought it was a great idea to waddle over and try to start fighting the Head Mistress's tail. And of course, instinctively, I found myself sandwiched between you two as she scolded both of us after I tried pulling you off.” Ventus huffed a bit, stifling a chuckle as he pushed himself from the railing and headed towards the nearby bar, “Then there was that time you first met Sophie outside of the Brood Tower.”

“You mean that one Turn where I made best friends with a manic girl? Well, maybe that's a bit harsh. She was sane, just enthusiastic. I still think back on how we met, especially considering that her people weren't usually allowed in dry portions of the city. Maybe things started to change a lot further back than we thought.” Vosh rambled on in her own head for a few moments as she watched her twin brother start preparing something. Whether it was for her or him remained to be seen, but she knew that he knew that she wasn't heavy into mixed drinks, “I hope whatever little brew you got going there is for someone other than me, Ven.”

“It's definitely not for you, trust me. I know you're not into sweet drinks,” he commented as he finished mixing the vodka based drink into a medium sized glass. He set it on the counter as he dipped down to open a fridge that was hidden underneath the counter, pulling out two brown bottles, likely stouts just from the look of the branding that was labeled onto them, “I figured I'd make a drink made up of a few things to sort've act as a 'loser drinks this cesspool'.”

“...what exactly makes it a cesspool?” she asked as he began approaching with the bottles and glass.

“Does it really matter? It's a mixed drink. They're all hazardous, especially to you and me. Mainly you, but I digress,” he laughed heartily as he handed her one of the brown bottles. The look on her face was something mixed between confusion, concern, and impatience, “But if you really wanna kn-”

“Just explain what the hell is in it already, Ventus. If it's really a 'loser drink', then I'll pass on whatever game it is you have planned. You'd probably rig it in your favor anyways.” Vosh growled lowly as she took the bottle and immediately took a sip from it. At least it was something she liked.

“Easy there, Vosh. There's no game, no challenge, nothing like that. Just a joke. You forget what day it is?” He asked as he stood next to her for a moment, looking down at his slightly older twin sibling, “No, seriously, you forget what day it is?”

“It's the weekend, that's all I know. What of it?” Vosh questioned as she took another swig, her sight locked with her brother's, a slight scowl etched into her expression. In a moment's notice, she found herself pulled close to Ventus's side as he poured the glass and the second bottle out over the ledge.

“Twenty six liquors we've never tried, and a bottle we have. We age weird, that much is true, but we still grow up, even if some of us don't. You get it now, Vosh?” he asked, her giving a subtle nod as she leaned into his side, still sipping from her bottle of beer.

“...happy birthday, Ven. I'm sorry it took me this long to finally get to spend another with you.” There was a slight sniffle from her.

“Happy birthday to you too, Vosh. Happy birthday to us.”


	4. The Spar

[Living Failures (Inspirational music from Bloodborne)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NiboHWwr12M&ab_channel=dudewhereismyspoon)

There he stood, in the midst of his own doubts, his own fears, his own shortcomings. These thoughts ate away at his very being every day, every second, but they did not define him. Not today, anyways. It'd been a long time since the man known as Alixandr found himself craving something else other than knowledge, something more tangible than insight. What he craved at this time...was a fight. It'd been far too long since he'd had an opportunity to practice his martial prowess, see where he stood on the totem when faced with an opponent on a similar playing field to him. But perhaps he was underestimating himself.

In this moment he found himself with a lightened amount of clothing. His shorts, or pants depending on how one looks at them, remained on, but his modified robe was removed, revealing that he wore a simple, loose fitting tank. This revealed his appearance that lied beneath, showing off those dirty-maroon patterns and, of course, the facial scarification tattoos. Only he and his sister could translate them without inciting any kind of madness from those around them, so when asked to he always obliged. Better for them to know some phrases rather than explore them on their own.

He wore no shoes or boots for this. There was no need, and the natural feel of his feet against the cold floor was more comforting than cushioned footwear. As he opened his eyes, those cursed eyes...he'd find the only one capable of providing him enough of a fight without losing themselves to the dark secrets he would reveal in the midst of a conflict: his firstborn daughter, Vosh. Why he had asked her to spar with him was a bit beyond her at the time, but after finding herself staring across the room they found themselves in, she began to understand why. Of course this didn't mean she'd hold back, but it did raise questions.

The room they occupied, and only they themselves occupied, was actually a simulation training chamber, commissioned to be built by Vythica herself after her retirement from her position as the Head Councilor. She claimed it was for herself, to keep herself on her toes, but as she and her other two children watched from the other side of the walls over a holoprojection, it became clear even to them what this place was built for. This place, despite it's simple disguise from the outside, was more complex in function beyond its main purpose as a simulation chamber. The things that were about to be revealed in this match up would be too much for even distant, neighboring resident and business zones. This place was designed to reflect and contain these things.

The father and daughter continued to stare at each other from opposite ends of the room, the latter stripped down similarly to only her pants, gloves, and a cropped tank top. She preferred footwear, but seeing Alixandr barefoot brought a bit of comfort to her, enough to also have her do the same. She still wasn't sure of what to expect here. She'd never fought her own father, let alone seen him fight. Was he offensive? Defensive? Did he prefer evasion like herself? Or was he surprisingly stoic like Ventus? He is a male of her kind, after all. Where many males of her kind lack agility, they make up for it with brute strength and stamina. Perhaps he wasn't any different, or maybe she'd have to make the first move to find out.

Minutes passed as the two continued to stare down. Vosh's patience began to grow thin, but knowing who her father was and what he _might_ be capable of kept her from wanting to make the first move. The eerie silence created an off-putting atmosphere that leaned towards fear, but that was subjective to either party. There was always fear in the unknown, but there was a mental and emotional tug-of-war when it came to trying to analyze someone you'd never seen do anything beyond talk and chant. She'd heard the stories of her father, retold in truth by both himself and her mother, but having her eyes locked with those of Alixandr's, in all of his sickly appearance, caused something inside of her to become unsettled.

His posture was loose, lazy even. It almost seemed as though the man she called her father didn't actually want to fight, or could for that matter. His footing was uneven, and he even seemed to sway slowly to an inconsistent rhythm. It reminded her of her own little 'drunk stance' she came up with for dealing with people after a long night out, but this...this was intentional, unlike her. Though she could not make it out clearly, it was able to be seen that he was mumbling to himself, if not chanting silently. What did he have planned?

Rather than continue to wait for an opportunity, it seemed as though Vosh would need to make the first move. In what felt like a slowed motion, Vosh tried to quickly step and take off into a sprint towards Alixandr, but something was off. As mentioned, her movement felt slow, and she thought she heard the faint sounds of water crashing onto a shore. As she momentarily looked towards the foot she stepped forward with, she realized what had already happened. There, under her foot, a thin puddle had formed, and without another moment wasted she felt herself slip and fall to the ground, “Ghh-!” She exclaimed as she felt herself fall under her own weight, landing against the floor with an uncomfortable grunt. This is why this place was chosen, however.

As she slowly picked herself up, she began to slowly realize what this room had shifted in appearance to: the shallow shores of R'lyeh. For a moment, she felt panic. She wanted to run. She didn't want to be back here! But as she looked back up to try and find her father, she would find no one. The water was not awfully deep at all, rising no higher than an inch or two, but it was enough for her to catch the sounds of footsteps rushing towards her, but from where?

The splashing was heavy, revealing it was obvious Alixandr was not as light on his feet as one might think just by looking at him, but the fact that his steps were unable to be traced based on sound alone set off a whole new set of alarms in the head of his daughter. This untraceable movement meant one thing to her, and that was that he was manipulating the senses...or so she thought. As she planned to react, taking a step back, it became clear that this global noise she was hearing was not Alixandr's doing, but rather the simulation, “You want me to ignore my senses?” She whispered softly to herself, only to hear it echoed back to her, all around her.

“I want you to understand who you are. What you are. Where you come from and why you are so important to not only myself, your mother, and your siblings, but to everyone,” echoed the words of Alixandr as his heavy footsteps continued to echo from every direction. Vosh assumed a defensive stance, her footing wide and steady as she tried to predict where he might approach from. His steps were heavy, but for some reason she could not see him, no matter where she looked. Only when she finally turned to face behind her did she find herself taking a well placed, heavy palm strike to her gut. She stumbled back with a grunt, unaware of just how hard her father could strike until now. But he did not relent, not just yet. In what almost seemed like a follow up strike with the opposite arm, he'd unleash a straight punch to the same spot he just struck.

Rather than try to block or evade the follow up strike, Vosh would take the hit, tightening her core as she felt her adrenaline begin to flow over. As he tried to quickly pull his arm back from his attack, Alixandr found himself suddenly pulled towards Vosh, a solid and spiteful punch thrown at his own gut. But unlike himself, his daughter was gifted with the blood of Alphas, and as a result he was sent flying a few yards before falling to the ground in pain. This should have been expected, considering his daughter was the spitting, fiery image of his own wife, but as he laid there staring up at the simulated cosmos in this cold, briny water, it dawned on him.

He slowly picked himself up, wholly expecting his daughter to be standing directly in front of him to keep him from recovering fully, but she stood at the same distance she had already been. She, too, had looked up at the infinite space above them, an ominous recreation of their old city's sky. Something awoke in the both of them as they, once again, stared into each others' eyes. While Vosh saw the sickly, yellow glow of her father's irises, Alixandr saw something he hadn't expected in hers. The green rings of her own eyes had slowly shifted to something else, something that revealed what he'd speculated for her entire life, from conception, to birth, to now, “You reveal yourself now? After all of this time occupying and biding your time within my eldest daughter's mind and body, why now?” He asked seemingly no one, though his echoing words were directed towards Vosh.

The green ringed irises of Vosh had shifted to a golden-orange, though the rest of her patterns remained their normal color. What was her father talking about? As much as she wanted to reply and toy with him, she'd simply stand there, still holding a defensive stance. What tipped him off that something or someone else was kin with her?

“Understand that we do not despise you, but your presence in this world will inevitably plunge it back to what we've been fighting to escape. I can help you, but only if you let me, Vosh.” Alixandr's words were heavy, for some reason, as if he was speaking to something deeper within Vosh's mind. It took a few moments, but in due time she revealed herself as those fabled, ethereal tendrils spawned from the shoulder spots of his daughter. They glowed in a shifting mix of color between green and orange. They were becoming closer to one another without Vosh's knowledge.

This situation was expected, but he did not expect this reaction. He understood why she had done this, however. She was afraid, and now it slowly began to show in Vosh's expression that she was, too. Alixandr once more found himself rushing towards his daughter to try and deliver another palm strike, this time to her back, but the reaction time of those arcane, spiritual limbs was beyond even his reflexes. They seemed to react on their own, as if something or someone else was now fighting back out of fear. He found himself stumbling back from a relatively medium blow to the face, ruining any and all momentum he had built.

Vosh slowly turned, having dropped her defensive stance, tears forming in only one of her eyes. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to do. She only understood that she was not herself in this moment. It was this place...! It was him bringing her back here to R'lyeh that set this off! In a fit of emotional and mental distraught, she shrieked. The sharp, high pitched scream echoed painfully around Alixandr. He held his head as he brought himself back to his feet, seemingly trying to reach out for Vosh from a distance.

The stars above them in this simulation began to twinkle extensively, almost as if they were reacting to this conflict between the First Harbinger and the Unawakened. Something was watching them, and it was smiling. The stars above danced ecstatically, as if an audience beyond their comprehension was entertained by the spectacle. Never before had a Child faced a mere mortal, one that called this Child his daughter. Vosh's shrieking and pained crying continued almost endlessly. From behind her began to approach something ominous, something...forgotten. The gates to The Deep, they began to call out towards her, beckon her away from Alixandr.

“Vosh!” exclaimed Alixandr as he pressed his fingertips together to form a delta pattern with them, “Don't listen to the temptations of The Deep! He isn't gone completely, not yet! You can't allow him to do this to you!” The sounds of heavy, crashing waves began to fill the space as Alixandr formed the vision of what looked to be a massive, ethereal tendril behind him, only to have it collapse and form a tidal wave of cleansing waters that drowned not only himself, but his daughter, and the gates to The Deep. He had no other choice. He thought this to himself as he swam towards his now unconscious daughter, pulling her close into a firm embrace.

Within moments, everything seemed to return to where they had been before, though Vosh was held in Alixandr's arms. Neither of them had felt the blows given to each other, neither of them were wet, and Vosh was back to her normal self, save for still being unconscious. Within moments, Vythica, Ventus, and even little Ashir rushed into the now shut down simulation chamber. Vythica was the first to speak out, in an abnormal panic compared to her usual cool, “Alixandr, explain this. Why is she-...I know. No, I know. I know. I know-” Vythica began to ramble. She didn't need Alixandr to answer her. She knew. She always knew from that fateful journey. Ashir, instead of worrying about Vosh, tended to her mother to try and calm her. She led her back out of the chamber, leaving Ventus alone with the two of them.

“So he's not gone then, is he dad?” questioned Ventus as he squatted and ran a bandaged hand through his twin sister's hair, letting her know he was here for her, “Then what was the point of everything we did?”

“He _is_ gone, Ventus. But traces of him remain. I will tend to her for the time being. Help Ashir with your mother. I need to look into this more. I won't allow our people to be manipulated again, that much I promise you son. I've failed once before. I won't allow this slip up to be the next.”


	5. The Fashionisto

[Strangers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbrJHNKc3Jo&ab_channel=NoMana)

[Freak](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s-Wqp_Ntf-U&ab_channel=WolfgangGartner-Topic)

What was it about his obsession with clothing? Was it the visual appeal? The creativeness he came across? The near infinite combinations he watched pass him by when traversing the wet streets here in New R'lyeh? Why did someone like him, a Ngirrth'luin, find themselves so obsessed with fashion here? His people had no reason to really diverge from their attire. It defined them as a people, after all...but that didn't mean they couldn't alter it. It wasn't as common back in R'lyeh, according to some of the stories he heard of those times, but it was now. He'd watched men and women, boys and girls, even children run around in the streets with altered wardrobes while still utilizing their robes. But what if he could take it a step further? Make it so that these old rags they clung onto became obsolete?

What was it, aside from cultural significance, that caused Ngirrth'luin like himself to continue to use these old rags? Then it dawned on him: the clothing material. Despite the climate systems here always being adjusted to match the original atmosphere of R'lyeh to allow a comfortable environment for them, that wasn't the only factor. Many of the materials used in this day and age agitated the skin, prevented their coats from allowing proper breathing. It trapped heat and moisture and suffocated the individual. There had to be something he could do, right?

And so he began his research. For years in hiding, only leaving his home turned into a lab for the essentials, the Ngirrth'luin analyzed and replicated his people's clothing through artificial means. He always came close, but never what was needed. Trials landed him between the feeling of rough canvas cloth and heavy, unbreathable leathers. Why was he so obsessed with this? Because his people deserved better. But this wouldn't just help his people. As his trial and error process continued, he eventually found the most comfortable equivalent to what his people brought into this world.

The most common materials here relied on traditional materials that were plentiful, such as plastics, pleathers, cotton, rubbers, and even hemp. But what he'd found was a balance between most of these. The structure of his people's robes materials wasn't possible to achieve perfectly, but what he'd found was close enough: a material that could breath like a light cotton, stretch and shine like some of the rubbers, and resist tearing like some of the strongest artificial leathers. Some could call it the miracle material, something to revolutionize the clothing and fashion industry. And as it so happened, this Ngirrth'luin did just that.

As things began to settle in the city, and his people became more and more accepted within its society over time, it came time to release this to the public. He started simple: tops, bottoms, socks, the essentials. But as it became increasingly popular as a necessity for Ngirrth'luin, it also became a need for the fashion industry. Increased demands for raw cuts of the material meant he needed to start making it exclusive to himself. This was the birth of the clothing icon De'Viathan, both in brand and in this Ngirrth'luin's name.

The sudden booming of the man's clothing lines evolved into something he never would have imagined in his lifetime. It brought him fame, it brought him fortune, it brought him praise. But there was something missing that he hoped it would bring him, and that was genuine people. His growth into New R'lyeh's biggest source of fashion and clothing seemed to cause him to drift away from the original ideals of why he did it in the first place. He became numb to his customers' praise, his fans' cries for more. There was a period of time where he even lost inspiration to design anything new or unique. His fashion production slowed back down to basics, still carrying his name of De'Viathan. His store still profited from it all, but there was no drive.

It wasn't until one faithful evening just before closing that he seemed to regain any amount of this back, however. He watched as she entered the store and began to peruse. Who was she? She was obviously Ngirrth'luin, and an Alpha at that. Just that fact alone demanded his respect, right? She was a rather peculiar girl, though. She didn't stand very tall, nor dress like most any other woman that came into his store. Perhaps it was the simple things that caught her attention?

She seemed to be judging a lot of what he had to offer rather harshly as she seemingly picked out and tossed multiple items to the ground in frustration. His business wasn't meeting the expectations of her...at least not what he had for sale out here. There _was_ another section in his large store that he reserved for special guests. Perhaps...maybe, he needed to ask. As he came out from his hiding spot up in his main office down to the main sales floor, many of the men and women immediately dropped their shopping, a unanimous but unsynchronized shout echoing throughout the entire store, “It's him! De'Viathan!”

And so began the wave of fans swarming him to obtain autographs, advice, the list went on. He didn't have time for this today, though. He could see her losing interest with every moment he spent trapped in this crowd. He needed to break free! Compared to the crowd around him, he was rather large, but somewhat lanky. Standing at around 6'6” and weighing about 200 pounds even, he'd do his best to force his way through and away from the crowd. As he did this, many of his employees and security team finally took notice that he was not at all for this swarm of fans. They eventually helped push back and disperse the crowd from him, letting him take care of what he wanted to from the beginning.

The Alpha girl took notice of this, even so much as waiting for him, though rather impatiently. To her, he was just an unimpressive store associate. Her expression gave off the impression that she didn't even recognize who he was. How could she not, though? The De'Viathan name was large enough. Why did she stand there while impatiently tapping her booted foot with her arms crossed? He'd clear his throat as he strode up to the girl, displaying himself as somewhat prideful of what he had, “I couldn't help but notice your dissatisfaction with the selection here in my store. Yes, you heard that right. I am De'Viathan, though I prefer the nickname 'De-'”

A pair of boots seemed to cave his chest in. As he fell to the ground in what felt like slow motion, he slowly realized what had happened. This short girl, this Alpha...she'd just drop kicked him! In his own store! The shock was prominent in his face, but as this woman stood over him and pulled him up by the collar of his jacket to meet her face, he could only find himself in what could be called a love-induced stupor, “Finish what you were saying,” the Alpha stated sternly, her free hand raised and held back in a fist. For some reason, in his head, something switched on. He almost wanted her to do it. He almost begged for her to do it! For the first time in a long time, he finally felt what he'd been missing! And for some reason, this girl, this short-haired, crop-top wearing, cargo-pants toting Alpha woman...she was it. He coughed a bit, catching his breath before he finally replied, “...I am De'Viathan, creator of the miracle clothing material, founder of this business, but you can call me 'Demi'. De'Viathan is the store's name now. Could you, umm...” He quieted himself as he pointed to her balled fist.

The girl, confused, loosened her grip and let him fall back to the floor, “Demi, huh? And why, out of all of your other customers here, would you tell me that? Think I stole something? Because I can tell you right now that even if I planned to do that, I wouldn't. There's nothing here worth stealing, except maybe people's credit chips...I wouldn't do that, though.”

“You're so beautiful,” immediately replied Demi.

“I'm sorry?”

“You're perfect.”

“What the hell?”

“What's your name?”

“Why should I tell y-”

“Please tell me!”

The girl looked at this man, this tall, wimpy man on the ground beg her for her name after trying to shower her in compliments. The man she'd just kicked onto the ground was now...flirting with her? The confusion on her face was clear as she stepped off from and away from Demi, allowing him to stand himself back up, but only for a moment before kneeling in front of her. He still wanted to know her name, and he seemed like the obsessed type to chase her out and around until he found out. With a sigh, she'd finally give it up, “...Vosh. Vosh Phantasm. I'm sure you know what exactly that name entails, so don't try to-”

“ _The_ daughter of the Head Councilor? Well, ex-Head Councilor.”

“...yeah, right, so, I'm just gonna-”

“Let me take you to dinner- no, let me rent out a perfect restaurant for this. Please, just this once. I promise you I won't waste your time, and I'll pay for everything, whatever it is you want!” Demi begged Vosh. He wasn't going to miss this opportunity. Was he being excessive? Maybe, but still!

“Free dinner, huh?” Vosh asked as she folded her arms again, thinking heavily on it. Free dinner meant free food and drinks. Free drinks meant free alcohol. She wasn't a heavy drinker, but maybe just tonight. He was offering a pretty elaborate night, after all, “...alright, fine. I'll let you take me out to dinner. But I'm not getting dressed, and I'm not using table mann-”

“Perfect!” Demi exclaimed as he pulled a hand of hers and immediately began to drag the short Alpha with his stretched frame.

“Hey, wait, chill!” Vosh yelled as she felt the soles of her boots drag against the carpet. She eventually found her footing and was able to keep up with the man. What had she just gotten herself into?

All that was known for certain past this point was the inevitable partnership between the two. A partnership that eventually ended up in marriage.


	6. CFS Origins: Relocation

[Ride or Die](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=56p4AMa14FI&ab_channel=mau5trap)

[Sleepless](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w5XDvxZ__fw&ab_channel=TheOtherMau5)

The events that unfolded not even a month ago led to not only a shift into another era within the walls of what was now known as New R'lyeh, but a shift in power. Authority was no longer entrusted and given to a single leader, that Ngirrth'luin woman known as Vythica. Instead, that power was now split evenly between and entrusted with a revival of an old societal concept: The Council. If you asked any Ngirrth'luin of age and old enough to remember their time in their old city, they would tell you exactly what that used to be, and how this revival was nothing like that. You see, the old Council was looked down upon, feared even. They dictated every aspect of the Ngirrth'luin lifestyle, demanded their belief in their old gods, and forced them into a failing cycle. But this new Council was different.

This New Council, assigned and appointed personally by the now retired Head Councilor, worked for the people of New R'lyeh, and would not act unless the people demanded it. However, this is a front. While she may not directly influence the choices the New Council makes, they still look to her for guidance and, in some cases, a final verdict. But why would this seem like such a relevant topic when discussing the fate of New R'lyeh and its people after the Advent? Well, if you asked the regular denizens of the Sanctum, you'd slowly begin to piece it together.

A city-wide emergency shutdown of any and all locations did not exclude the Sanctum. The sudden flooding of the streets and alleyways that surrounded it with the mindless husks, many of which were its own regulars, gave rise to some questions. Was the Sanctum really safe now due to its explosive growth in popularity over the course of its establishment? Was the Network still a reliable defense? But most importantly...could they find a better place? Somewhere that only those that truly knew the purpose of it was could find without a word being spoken. The answer was simply 'yes'. And as a result, the old Sanctum was shutdown without a word.

During the quiet months between, organized crime became much more prominent once more. The Mid Levels were now open to all, many of the criminal organizations and crowds finding and weaseling their way quietly into the cracks of a still anxious society. But this scheming did not last long, nor was it ever allowed to settle in. Unlike before, something or someone wasn't hiding these secrets from Enforcement. In fact, one could say it felt like a mole was now exposing everything. But it wasn't at random, as Enforcement began to discover. But there also wasn't a specific pattern, either. In fact, majority of their leads felt as though they were being strung along for janitorial duty. Every single one of these operations were to storm and detain, and every time they did they always seemed to find their suspects either unconscious or tied up and rendered harmless. What the hell was going on?

There were others in this city that knew more than they let on, and that, of course, led them to the Sanctum. Who were these other people? While no individual names could be made out, there seemed to be talk of a new group among the public. Whether it was by word of mouth or online discussion, the Network eventually was able to make out just who this new 'group' was, and now it had even them curious as they seemed to repeatedly wonder about them: the 'Children'. Who were they? What were their goals? Their intentions? The same questions reiterated by a certain woman to the original discoverers of her hub they began to ask themselves as they seemed to delve deeper and deeper...into nothing. Nothing! Why was there nothing there? Why was it that every clue, every hint, led them to nothing?! It was maddening, but that feeling of madness became an understandable concept one day.

The relocation of the Sanctum remained a secret. Hidden in one of Level 15's lowest traffic zones was an artifact of a building, its original purpose lost to the ages, its ancient design an homage to a much different time not only in the life of New R'lyeh, but this world altogether. The Sanctum's new location was in rough shape, old pillars of a passed civilization's design lining its walls and walkway. Wires hung from the roof and rafters, remnants of old technology that once packed this building to the brim. The windows that remained were now solid and opaque, hidden by buildings erected around and above them. But, there were some remnants of that old tech. What this location was, at one point, was one of the many information storage and trade hubs, a market of knowledge, but now lost to the years and rapidly advancing technology.

It was a mess, to say the least, but it was also a work in progress. While the old Sanctum seemed to meet the basic needs of even their most discrete and exclusive visitors, this place was...lacking, in many departments. As the two known as Royal and Vanity stood on the lower floor trying to visualize in their minds what they could do with this place, something else seemed to catch their attention. There, in the only known entrance into and out of this place, stood the silhouettes of two figures: a rather tall, masculine figure, and a curiously short, feminine one. The male seemed to be holding their arms up in the air while being shoved along by the female, “Easy, I led you here. Now, can I go?”

“No.”

“Listen, I held up my end of the deal, now you hold up yours. That's how this works!”

“Who are you again?”

The conversation between the two was loud, echoing throughout this new and still infant location. Any louder and even the common streetwalkers could hear them. Exaggerated, of course, but still, “Hey! Both of you, whoever you are, down here, now!” Shouted out an already bothered Royal, arms crossed. His patience seemed to have been worn thin that quickly. The two silhouettes seemingly looked at each other, then back to the pit bull, “Well? Don't make me ask again!”

“You didn't ask shit, guy!” exclaimed back the female. She and the male figure, however, did begin to slowly move their way into view. It became more apparent who, or rather what, the female was. The male was still hard to make out, “All you've done so far is make demands with nothing to back them up, tin-fist. Plus I'm the one with the hostage-”

“Volunteer-”

“Hostage here. And he led me here. So now I'm gonna ask the questions here!” the woman shouted, still slowly moving into better view. Her patterning began to faintly glow, and it didn't take long for Vanity to begin deciphering who and what had entered their newly chosen location for the Sanctum.

“A Ngirrth'luin. An _Alpha_ Ngirrth'luin. And not just any Alpha Ngirrth'luin, either,” she began, taking a few graceful strides towards the still approaching figures. Her steps exhumed confidence, dominance in certain cases, but something told her to stop after those first few steps. Within a moment, a deafeningly loud round was fired from the still unidentified Ngirrth'luin woman at Vanity's feet, leaving a well sized hole in the floor and marking an official safe distance for her to be in relation to the woman, “And no less than the former Head Councilor's daughter, at that. Tell me, what business do you have coming here? As you can see, we've got work to do, and your little charade is already putting a delay to th-”

“Oh shut it, will you? I'm not here to cause trouble, but don't think for a second that I'm exactly here to be friendly from the get go,” began the Ngirrth'luin woman as she gently shoved the male into a visible trace of light, revealing a Doberman looking man. He seemingly dusted himself and his gear off, as if he'd been forcefully dragged here by the woman. Her entire identity was still hidden in the poor lighting, but Vanity was right in her assumptions about who she was, “Right, so you know who I am. Vosh Phantasm, daughter of Vythica, whoopdeedoo. Here's your reward!” The woman exclaimed as she threw her hands up into the air, mocking a celebration, “See? No one cares. Nice rack, by the way-”

“Listen here, runt. You're in our territory-”

“Ohh, did I upset the guard dog?” immediately retorted and mocked Vosh as she holstered that impressively sized sidearm, “Oh no! A mean, rude Ngirrth'luin bitch is invading my proverbial territory and now I feel like I need to defend it from being turned into some kind of nesting ground for the mentally insane! Please. Like I said, I'm not here to cause trouble, but if you keep trying to interrupt me before I even get the chance to explain why I'm here, then I will.” Her words came off as insulting, sarcastic. For someone that seemed to be here for reasons other than stirring trouble, she sure did talk like that was the case, “This guy right here's named Apollo. I used him to track this location, or should I say re-location, down. I found him using a friend. A friend _you_ know.”

Vanity glanced over back at Royal, the two of them giving each other a silent nod, agreeing to continue hearing this girl out, “And who might that be? All of our contacts and assets are anonymous, as well as their business. I highly doubt you know anyone we kn-”

“Oxye ring a bell?” cut in Vosh, still keeping her distance, and making sure the feline woman before her remained in place, “If you can't recall, I'm sure your anonymous 'lead' could. But from the looks of everything so far, I'd say she's been absent from your work and decisions for awhile now.” Her words were taunting, and almost cold. If anything could be said about this woman, it's that she definitely pulled off a damn good replication of the old Head Councilor's speech patterns and tone, “So, any of you gonna ask me _why_ I went through all of this trouble to find you? Or are you going to continue to stand there questioning me? You know who I am. You know what I've done. You know what I _can_ do. Will I? Well that all depends on where this conversation goes.” She then finally stepped into the dim light, revealing her full on appearance of the usual. A pair of gathered cargo pants tucked into a pair of boots, a very cropped tank top, and a faux-feather lined, cropped jacket, just to define the basics. Compared to the heavy-sweatered, tight jeans wearing Doberman, you could say she was overdressed for the occasion, especially with what looked to be stolen Enforcer tech resting on her shoulders.

Royal and Vanity looked her over for a bit longer, assessing her sense of style and possible hidden equipment. They already knew of the firearm, but what else could she have hidden on her person? It was hard to tell, especially considering her already dark and monochrome wardrobe. Royal eventually spoke up as he moved up to stand beside Vanity once more, “Alright, let's hear it then. What're you here for? I owe you at least this much for not shooting Vanity outright when you could have.”

Vosh sneered, waving off the should-be compliment, “I'm not one for casualties where they're not needed. Anyways, I want in.”

Vanity and Royal blinked in unison. All of that trouble just to demand she wants 'in'? Vanity folded her arm gently, raising her head up a bit as if looking down on the woman as she spoke, “You want 'in'? In on what? I'm not sure if you've looked around, but there's not much here to be 'in' on. I'm calling your bluff.” But the truth was that Vanity couldn't be more wrong. From the entrance that Vosh and Apollo had come through could be heard the tumbling of two individuals as they fell down the stairs. The light, bare-footed patting of feet was unmistakable to those that recognized it.

None recognized it more than the dark-furred pit bull, Royal, “What the- why are you two here?!” He'd shout over at the approaching bodies, only the multitude of lighting on their clothing giving away who they were. They didn't answer, however. Their focus seemed to be on the Ngirrth'luin woman trying to negotiate.

“Vosh! Don't sign anything! Don't accept any terms! They'll trap you like they did me-”

“Us! It's not a trap, Ox! Vosh is grown enough, she doesn't need'ya input!”

“Let go, Molly!”

“Nah!”

The bickering was easily recognized by everyone in the building so far, even the newcomer Apollo. None were more surprised or bothered by it than Royal himself, however, “Both of you, quiet down! Or I'm gonna have to throw you both out for good. Where've you two been, anyways?”

“Long story short, they've been working with me. They're independent now, but they choose to continue to help me for some reason. Were they this clingy in the past?” questioned Vosh as she moved over to help the two onto their feet.

“Yes and no- but back to business,” began Vanity once more, “You want in, but to what? How much do you know? And most importantly, what do you bring in offer?” She was, of course, referring to information. And there was only one thing most important to them to know at this moment: the identity of the 'Children'.

Vosh returned to the light to continue her negotiations with Vanity and Royal, resting a hand on her hip and shifting her weight onto that same leg, “What is it you want to know, then? Because I could just be lying and you wouldn't know it. That's how you 'Network' types work, right?”

Vanity immediately lowered her face to meet Vosh's odd-eyed gaze, shooting it between the Ngirrth'luin and her old friends before responding, “Alright, so, you know who we are, but there's a system in place for a reason. Tell us what you know about these 'Children', this uprising group that seems to be ahead of even us on most things. I'm not sure if you understand-”

“Nah, I understand exactly what you're getting at and why. And to be honest, you at least deserve to know that the 'Children', more specifically the 'Children of New R'lyeh', aren't here to cause you trouble. In fact, you're looking at three of its members right now, and a possible fourth if he chooses,” she'd motion with a thumb in Apollo's direction, “After the event I'm sure you know as the 'Advent', a few of us began to work on keeping the streets safe of any malicious intents. I'm not sure if you're aware, but the summoning of what was fought wasn't exactly healthy on the minds of the masses. We monitor, we identify, we neutralize. Simple work, no mistakes. Anything else you'd like to know?”

At this point, Vanity and Royal were full expecting _something_ to happen, anything. Apparently their operations had become more public than they thought, and it was due to the Fen-Chi siblings that now seemed to be hiding behind Vosh. As they expected, something did eventually happen. The lights, like the first time the original location was breached without warning, went dark for a moment. However they did not turn on as quickly as they had the last time. In fact, noises of a struggle could be heard. Punches were being thrown, and bodies were being slammed into the ground. The only things visible in this moment were the glowing patterns of that Ngirrth'luin as she moved fluidly and efficiently, taking down whoever or whatever was trying to apprehend her and her friends. After a moment, the lights would turn back on. Standing before Royal and Vanity panting was an exhausted Efi, and before her laid the multiple now unconscious members of the Network. The hellhound finally spoke up, sneering as she stared down the single Ngirrth'luin, “I underestimated your people, and most importantly you. A shame that Oxye and his sister over there have chosen their path, but I can't control what they do. They've earned their right to do so. But you...what do you want? In?”

Vosh rolled her shoulders and cracked her knuckles. That was a good fight, and the smile on her face made it obvious she was in a good mood now, “Yeah? I said that already, right? I want in. More importantly, the 'Children' want to work with you, and I'll be their rep. Any objections-” She asked as she looked around at the bodies that littered the floor, “-that aren't already laid out?”

Efi looked back at both Royal and Vanity, then to the one named Apollo, “You. She brought you here because you already knew how to find this place. You have value, but you'll need to be monitored. Vanity, Royal, this one is now your responsibility, as well as this Ngirrth'luin girl.” There was a slight hiss in her voice. The last time she'd been bested was Oxye's escape. She didn't enjoy chalking up another loss, “Tell me though, Ngirrth'luin. The ruckus here is bound to stir the streets above, make people question what exactly this place is for. I'm sure Oxavier has given you the summary of what we are, what we do. You should know that our business is quiet, private, only for the ears of those that can be trusted and watched to maintain that trust. You're an outsider, using other outsiders and an old member of my people to manipulate your way in. How do you plan on helping maintain that trust, that neutrality, of this place?” Efi's words were heavy, but almost as if Vosh had a plan to begin with, she'd soon find herself on the defense from the Ngirrth'luin's words.

“Simple, actually. Become public. The exclusivity thing is what got you into this mess in the first place. This place is big enough to be disguised as an underground club, a speakeasy, whatever you want to call it,” the Ngirrth'luin explained as she started pacing around the lower pit of this ancient building, “Some lighting, an expensive sound system setup, a bar...hell, vending machines. What better way to remain hidden in a city that doesn't try to look too deep? Yeah, the 'Advent' has stirred some things up, but that's what the 'Children' are here for. The Network can continue to work as it needs to, knowing that uprisings will be taken care of. What do you think? Personally I like it. Oxye and Molly were the ones that pitched the idea to me. Apollo...he's a bystander. For now.”

The original three members of the Network faced each other, silently debating their options. The display this Ngirrth'luin girl had just given was enough proof that if they tried to go against it, they'd be in over their heads. After all, they hardly knew a thing about the 'Children'. What better way to start getting information on them then to work with the old Head Councilor's own daughter?

“...I agree to your terms,” voiced Efi, though there was a hint of doubt in the way that she hissed the words. She glanced over at the other two, wondering if they'd also agree to the terms laid out by a girl that seemed to be more than she appeared.

“You're reckless! You barge in here, make a ruckus, then demand partnership? Absolutely fuckin' nuts. But...if the head bitch in charge right here agrees to work with you, then I don't have a reason to doubt the terms. Just don't bring the place down,” Royal growled, further bulking himself up as he rolled his shoulders back and forth.

“And with myself, that makes three in agreement. But, I do have another question, more pertaining to yourself rather than your business here, Vosh,” began Vanity as she finally moved to take some steps up to the Ngirrth'luin, leaning over slightly as if to meet her eye-to-eye, “How do I know _I_ can trust you? Like everyone else here, I've watched your people integrate themselves into this city. You're now as much official citizens as any of us that have lived here since before you all arrived, but yet you seem to be trying to prove that your presence here isn't a nuisance. Trust me when I say that I want to trust you. The bodies of our people here are proof enough that you can fight, but can you maintain secrets?” Vanity's words were soft, but piercing, Vosh's ears perked at the smooth rolling of them from her tongue.

The Ngirrth'luin brought her face closer to the feline's face as she spoke, “Guess you'll need to put that trust to the test and find out. Look forward to proving to you all that I'm more of a benefit to keep around than trouble.” She pulled her head back, “Just don't give _me_ a reason to not return that trust.”


End file.
